


Multiple Fractures

by Mosspool13



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Beau/Jester if you squint, F/F, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-01-23 17:37:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18554569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mosspool13/pseuds/Mosspool13
Summary: What if Keg and Beau weren't the only ones who had "glad we're not dead" sex after defeating the Iron Shepherds?





	Multiple Fractures

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a little more nsfw, folks. That sort of comes with the territory of "one-night stands" though, lol

The ropes burn. They always burn. They've been charmed in some way to stop the casting of magic. Fjord hasn't been able to summon his falchion, and Jester can't cast any healing spells, though she continues to try. Fjord can't tell if Yasha is able to break them, she's been separated from them since the start. He can only occasionally hear them talk about her when she's on the slab, or catch a glance of her in the cell across from them when he's got his arms pinned to the table and he's trying hard to think about anything but the knife digging into his sternum. 

"The ruby of the sea...." Jester sings. "She's the best lay ever..." Fjord listens to her in the darkness. Sometimes she hums, other times he can hear her vocals. Her voice is charming, and it keeps him from falling deep into something he's afraid he won't be able to crawl his way out of. He wishes he could see her face, but they keep them blindfolded and back to back, so the best Fjord can tell of her, that she's still in one piece, is the feel of her hands in his. 

His shoulder blades ache. They'd taken a knife to the muscle between his back and shoulder, he can still feel it bleeding. They were working on Yasha again, Fjord only knew because she was the only one who never screamed. 

But something was different this time... there was shouts, the scrabble of feet as their captors quickly left them alone. "What's going on?" Jester asked, her voice quiet. 

"I don't know." Fjord whispered back. 

It happened very quickly after that. The fighting, the chaos, the ice, the fire, the sounds of their friends shouting, and unfamiliar voices. Fjord could hear Beau, and he could hear Nott, and even Caleb, and he was surprised by their voices, but relieved. So relieved. 

There's movement to the side, and Fjord tenses and feels Jester do the same, until a reedy, familiar voice whispers, "Shh, it's me. Just me." And then Nott's fingers are working on their bindings. Fjord rips off his blindfold, staggering to his feet just as Nott crushes Jester in a hug, tears in her eyes. "Case closed." She gasped, into the curl of Jester's blue hair. Jester holds her tightly back. 

Fjord finally gets a look at them. Nott looks hurt. She's got cuts and blood on her cheek, but Jester looks worse: hollowed out and pale, dark circles under her eyes, but she's smiling and Fjord feels like a coward because he can't look at her anymore. 

He has no idea what he looks like, but he quickly scrambles to put on a mask, so when Jester and Nott look up at him standing above them, they only frown a little bit. "I'm really glad to see you, Nott." Fjord says, and Nott stands up with Jester, flicking a thumb at her chest and puffing herself up. "Well, we couldn't just leave you here to rot, now could we?" She jokes. 

 _Yes, you could have_. Fjord doesn't say. 

Nott helps them out of the cell, her hand clutching tight to Jester's and Fjord follows close behind them, his eyes tracking Jester's shoulders. Nott and Jester head to Yasha's cell, where Beau and a dwarven woman have an unconscious Yasha slung over both of their shoulders. Beau looks beaten to a pulp, but her eyes are aflame with triumph, and the dwarf woman looks mostly the same. Compared to them, Yasha looks terrible. Her hair is covered in blood, and her cheek is swollen and Fjord knows that she must have other wounds underneath her clothes, like he and Jester do. 

_Why couldn't he protect them? Why was he so weak?_

He looks away, right into Caleb's face. Caleb, who is just as bloody as the others, holding his side like he can barely keep himself up, but he's watching them all with something satisfied on his face. 

"Thank you." Fjord says, when he catches Caleb's eyes. "For coming. For saving us." 

"Ah," Caleb's eyes look away and he shrugs, wincing a little with the pull of his shoulders. "Group effort." 

"Sure it was." Fjord says, inclining his head. 

 

Caleb sets up his new magic hut, and Fjord is once again amazed at Caleb's magical prowess. What he isn't expecting, is for Caleb to yank on his hand, tugging him into the dome and nearly off his feet. Fjord shouts, and then coughs to try to cover it up, hiding his face behind his hand from Jester and Nott's dual grins, and Caleb's eyebrow raise of amusement.

Beau walks into the dome, ducking her head as she enters, with the dwarf woman, Keg, following close behind her. "Cool place, Caleb."

"Ah, the two of you will need to find a separate place to sleep." Caleb says, eyeing Beau and Keg. Fjord looks at Caleb in confusion, glancing over Keg's blushing face and Beau's scowl. Caleb continues, unaware of or choosing to ignore Beau's flattening expression, "there is no privacy inside the dome, ah, so if you wish to have your time to yourselves--" 

"Stop talking to me, Caleb."

Caleb looks away and shuts up. Jester giggles. Fjord leans into Jester's space, "What are they talkin' about?"

"Oh, Fjord, can't you tell? Beau and Keg are going to have sex tonight!"

Fjord feels his face heat up immediately. "Fuckin'--I didn't need to know any of that."

Jester laughs at him, despite the pale sheen of her skin, she looks as exuberant as ever. "Then why did you ask?"

"Deadly curiosity." Fjord mutters.

"I think it's really romantic, the 'we almost kinda sorta died' sex, you know?" She bats her eyelashes and grins Fjord's way. "So, Fjord..."

"Well, would you look at the time--!" Fjord interrupts her and Jester laughs after him as he makes his escape.

Beau and Keg do leave the dome, and the rest of the Nein settle in, the rest of the Nein plus an unconscious Yasha and one Caduceus Clay. Fjord eyes the firbolg, uncomfortable, but not unappreciative. Caleb had explained to them about Caduceus' presence, the fact that he had agreed to help save them at the cost of his own life. Fjord was surprised that Caleb, of all people, thought him trustworthy, but what could Fjord say about that? After all, he'd been stupid enough to get not only himself, but Jester and Yasha kidnapped.

Fjord makes sure that, when they do all pick their sleeping spots, that Fjord has a clear view of everyone in the dome. His eyes take in Yasha, still unconscious after everything--the beatings she must have taken--and Jester, who falls into a restless sleep, tossing this way and that, faint whimpers coming from her throat. Fjord takes her hand, in his spot beside her, and she settles, and Fjord breathes out.

At least this he can do.

When they wake up in the morning, Keg is gone, having left two awkward, scribbled notes for Beau and Nott. Beau, her hair a mess and her face relaxed, smirks when she reads hers, and Fjord blushes just looking at her.

"Was it good?" Jester asks Beau. "Are you sad that she is gone?"

Beau shrugs. "Nah. It was only one night. She was cool. Great in the sack."

Jester pokes Beau's cheek and Fjord is surprised that Beau allows it. "You do look all rosy and flushed and happy. Are you sure you're not _in loveeee_?"

Beau rolls her eyes but gently pulls away from Jester, "We're just friends, who had sex. Love has nothing to do with that."   

***

Fjord can't look at anyone when they reach Molly's grave. The fear and the guilt take root in his sternum. He'd not only failed Yasha and Jester, he'd failed Molly too. In the worst way.

Fjord's hands instinctively curl around Molly's sword, tucked into his holster. If he thinks hard enough, focuses on the blade, he can feel the remnants of Molly's magic infused in the sword--the very last essence of him, still left behind after the man himself has passed on.

Jester is crying and Nott is holding onto Caleb, Yasha has already left, and Fjord wonders if she too can hardly bear to look at them--look at _him_. Caduceus Clay is the only one who has himself together, who walks to Jester and touches her shoulder in solidarity. Fjord watches the firbolg move from member to member, whispering words of encouragement, until he finally gets to Fjord.

"He must have been a beautiful person to have such good friends miss him so." Clay says,

Fjord looks away, thinking of Molly's loud snores, his taunts, his scuffles with Beau and the one-time he'd commandeered their room for a night of debauchery--his words, not Fjord's--or how he had lied about his sword praying ritual, or that every time Fjord walked into their room, he was naked in some way. "Yeah, he was beautiful." Fjord tells him, believing every word.

Caduceus leaves him and moves to Molly's grave, stooping down and touching his hand to the dirt around the stump of wood. His hand glows for a moment, an almost sickly green color, before moss and greenery begins to sprout at the base of the plank. Fjord watches in fascination as a tendril of vines loops the bottom of the grave marker, and Caduceus Clay stands up, pleased.

"Now a tree will grow here. And your friend will be immortalized."

Beau snorts, wiping her nose where she'd been pretending she hadn't been crying. "He'd have liked that."  

Caleb stands up, Nott encircled within his arms and wrapped around his front like a blanket. "We should go." He inclines his head to the procession of horses and carriages over the hill behind them, "She will not wait for much longer."

When Fjord turns his head to look, Ophelia Mardun is watching from her carriage, her eyes sharp on each of them, and Fjord doesn't want to leave Molly, but he also knows that he has to protect what's left of the Nein. He doesn't know if he trusts this woman, or The Gentleman, but it's a job, and they'll follow through.

 

Later, when Fjord is sure that he is alone, he'll take Molly's sword and he'll focus on it, and he'll swallow it within himself, hoping to keep a little bit of Molly with him for as long as he can.

When he summons the falchion, it shimmers with the glow of the Summer's Dance, and Fjord is relieved that he can still feel the little errant hum of Molly's magic even covered in sea water as it is.

Fjord will preserve his memory as best he can, as an apology, and as a tribute.

***

Fjord nurses his pint, keeping one eye on the dancing couple of Ophelia Mardun and The Gentleman. She seems to be humoring The Gentleman, who is grinning and turning her in his arms. Caleb is drinking just across from him, with Beau at his elbow, lounging with her arm over the seat rest and watching Jester dancing by herself.

Fjord nudges her. "You want to join her?"

Beau shrugs, and continues to watch Jester with something complicated on her face before she does rise from the seat, ignoring Fjord's grin as she slides out of the booth and heads for Jester. Fjord watches Jester's face light up as Beau touches her shoulder and then the two of them begin to dance together, in some awkward parody of the dance they had made up a while back. Fjord remembers it, vaguely, Nott and Jester and Beau, coordinating a dance in Hupperdook, staging it. It feels like a lifetime has passed when in reality it was more like a couple weeks.

Caleb snorts into his pint, his cheeks a little rosier than Fjord is used to them being. He seems a little cheerier too, his expression less conflicted or closed-off, more open in a way that makes his face quite attractive to look at. He is watching the pair of them dance, eyes skittering over to Nott who is at the bar with Caduceus, watching the firbolg drink from a tankard. He chuckles to himself again, and Fjord watches him in the dark until Caleb's eyes meet his across the table.

Fjord tucks his hands into the warm metal of his pint glass. "You look happy." He remarks.

Caleb shrugs, looking down into his pint. "I am glad that we are all together again." He says.

"I know I told you this before, but I'm still surprised that you and Nott decided to come after us like you did." Fjord admits, watching Caleb's expression expectantly. Caleb shrugs again, and Fjord is distracted by the way his loose shirt pulls across the thin line of his shoulders in the low lighting. 

"We all... mean something to one another now, _ja_."

"Yeah." Fjord nods, still watching him. Caleb looks up and catches Fjord looking at him. He looks away, to watch Beau and Jester dancing again. The two of them are doing something like a waltz, but Jester is making the movements more exuberant than they should be while Beau is trying, and failing, to catch up. "Our little group is..." he continues, turning back to Fjord and meeting his gaze, "...important." He finishes.

"Yeah," Fjord says again, "thank you," he swallows hard and waves his hand between the two of them, "for what you said about... not blaming myself." Fjord doesn't know if he'll heed Caleb's advice, but it was the sentiment that counts. The concern in their eyes. Jester is strong, and though what Caleb said about her hiding it well may be true, she at the very least had stayed strong during it to help him keep his head. He could not say he had done the same for her. Or Yasha. Thinking about Yasha hurt, because she was gone now. Run away after... Molly, and he couldn't blame her, but he felt he had failed her out of all of them the most.

"Fjord." Caleb said, bringing him back to the present. Fjord glanced down at his hand, where Caleb had touched him, lightly, with his own hand outstretched. "You are still blaming yourself."

Fjord chuckled. "Yeah, guess I am." He turned his hand over, taking Caleb's pale, lightly freckled hand in his and squeezes it lightly before pulling away. "It's hard. Because I feel like it's my fault that Molly is..."

"It is not your fault that Molly is dead." Caleb says, a little harsh. Fjord flinches and Caleb gentles his tone, only slightly. "We should have been more careful. Our plan was rushed and idiotic, but we were afraid to lose the three of you so we did not think ahead." He looks frustrated with himself when he adds. "I am not a fan of unclear thinking."

Fjord huffs a laugh. "That's pretty clear, Caleb." He looks over at Beau and Jester again, the two of them laughing as they spin each other, and Fjord is wistful of that sort of happiness. He's been grasping at straws lately, restless with his own disappointment in himself, and struggling to come to terms with Molly's death.

"You are still conflicted." Caleb points out, watching him keenly over his pint glass.

"Don't think keepin' my mind off things is as easy as it sounds." Fjord says, leaning his hand on his chin. "Save finding some sort of distraction." His eyes wander from Beau and Jester to the other occupants of the room. Cree is hovering a little ways away, eyeing the Nein with distrustful eyes. Of course she would be, after all, Molly was dead now and what he had been before, Lucien or whomever, was who she had once called a friend, maybe. The other woman, Kara, who had been a part of the Knights of Requital, was also playing the harp again nearby. She noticed Fjord's gaze and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. He nodded back.

When he turns back to Caleb, the wizard is eyeing Fjord with something curious in his eyes. He nods to Kara with his head without taking his eyes off Fjord,  "You are thinking of distracting yourself as Beauregard had done?"

"What?" Fjord blinks, sitting up a little straighter.

Caleb elaborates, "with sex."

Fjord splutters, his cheeks going red. "No! I--" he glances quickly at Kara, and then quickly away, "gods, Caleb, of course not."

Caleb tilts his head curiously. "Why not?"

"That's not--" Fjord shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He is suitably distracted of thoughts of Molly and death and guilt now. Embarrassment, what a wonder. "I ain't looking for that sort of fun, here."

"Elsewhere then?"

" _No_." Fjord nearly shouts, but manages to keep his voice level despite wanting to scream. "Why would you think--?"

"You said that you thought a distraction would be necessary if you were to get your mind off recent events, Beauregard has mentioned that her sexual escapades have been a fruitful endeavor." Caleb raises an eyebrow, "was I wrong to think you did not have that in mind as an option?"

Fjord wants to hiss "yes", that he hadn't once considered doing a Beau and finding someone to bed to keep the darker thoughts at bay, but Fjord knows his mind, and he knows that his eyes have tracked the way Caleb had been drinking, the soft pale line of his throat swallowing as his Adam's apple bobbed.

Instead, Fjord doesn't say anything and Caleb hums and drinks the rest of his pint glass in one go. "It is not a bad idea." Caleb continues, after he has drank his full. "And this might be the alcohol that is talking," He continues, "liquid courage I should say, but there are things that I need to take my mind off of as well."

Fjord stares at Caleb, who pushes the pint glass away and stares back at him. There's something challenging in his eyes, blue as they are and flared up, as though he is using his magic. Fjord shivers. "Are you... propositioning me?" He asks, slowly.

Caleb tucks his chin down, his hair flopping forward. "That is what I appear to be doing, _ja_."

"And this will be a... one-time thing?"

Caleb hums again, stapling his fingers together on the table. "If that is what you want."

Fjord raises an eyebrow and directs the question back, "is that what you want?"

"You are... quite attractive, Fjord. I would not say no to a repeat performance if you should ask for it."

Fjord blushes. "You're talkin' as though the first time is already decided."

Caleb looks steadily back at him. "Isn't it?"

 _Yes_ , Fjord thinks, because as soon as Caleb had started talking about sex, Fjord had been looking at him, taking him in, and he had been cataloguing his features, imagining what it would be like, to have Caleb. And he was now sufficiently hard under the table.

"Alright, yeah, okay," Fjord swallows and stands up, angling himself so the table blocks most of his lower body from view. "Now?"

Caleb nods and stands as well, turning and leading the way back towards the rooms in the underbelly of the Evening Nip. They pass Jester and Beau, oblivious, and Caduceus and Nott at the bar, they pass Cree, who glares at Fjord as he passes, and Kara, who glances at them and smiles secretly to herself as she strums on her harp. They get to a little corridor where the privy and the rooms are located, and Fjord follows close behind Caleb as he lays an ear on one of the nearest doors. He pauses, mouths something and then the door opens with a click. They step inside. It is dark, not very spacious and Fjord realizes it must be some sort of cupboard of some-kind, just as Caleb presses into him, backing him up against the door.

"Tell me if there is anything that I do that you do not like." Caleb says, his breath puffing against Fjord's collarbone.

Fjord's hands rise up, tucking into the loose strands of Caleb's hair. "I doubt there is anything you could do that I wouldn't like." Fjord murmurs just as Caleb falls to his knees.

Fjord puffs out a breath as Caleb's hands make quick work of his belt and breeches, pulling them down past his knees. Fjord is somewhat embarrassed by how hard he is in his underclothes but Caleb seems fascinated with the rise of him beneath his pants. His hands slip into Fjord's clothes and pull his cock free, flush and warm in his hand, and Caleb tugs once on the skin of Fjord's erection, making Fjord grit his teeth with how good it feels.

"Good?" Caleb asks, glancing up, and Fjord nods, "yeah," he sighs, his voice low and deep and Caleb shudders and leans forward.

Caleb takes him into his mouth, and sucks, and Fjord has to clutch the door with one hand and his thigh in the other to keep himself sane. It is a sensation like no other, and Fjord can't not look at the way Caleb moves and sucks him down, his hair tousled and almost black in the darkness. He wonders what Caleb can see, with his human eyes. Can he see the way Fjord is barely holding himself together, his claws pinching into his skin and leaving divots in the wood of the door. Can he see how flushed and trembling Fjord is for him? What would it look like, if Fjord pulled Caleb away and dropped to his knees, his cock still wet with Caleb's saliva and his own precum, if he did the same to Caleb, took him into his mouth and made Caleb cum, shivering on the floor, knees bracketing Fjord's head.

He imagines it, with the heavy, hard suck of Caleb's mouth around him, and he nearly cums right then and there, embarrassingly, after only five minutes of exquisite torture.

He can thank his orc-ish half for the constitution save.

Caleb releases him, breathing heavily, his eyes dark and dilated, and pulls on Fjord's length once with his hand while he massages his jaw with the other. "It has been a while." He murmurs.

"It's good, really good, Caleb." Fjord praises. Caleb huffs and presses his mouth to the crown of Fjord's cock, lapping up the precum dribbling from the tip. Fjord awkwardly slides his hand across Caleb's cheek, hoping for tender. Caleb nuzzles into his palm, briefly, before resuming his slow, long licks of Fjord's cock. Fjord trembles, holding himself together by a thin thread of willpower. He mumbles Caleb's name again and Caleb glances up, opening his mouth and taking Fjord in again, Fjord bites his bottom lip hard as Caleb sucks him down deep, until he can feel himself hitting the back of his throat.

"Gods, Caleb." Fjord praises. 

Caleb hums around him and Fjord shudders again. Then Caleb slowly pulls off again, and licks his lips, the corners pulled up in amusement. "You are not the only one who is good at swallowing." He says and Fjord would scowl at him if he wasn't so close right now.

"Shut up." He says instead, hand going to Caleb's mouth and thumb pressing into his bottom lip. Caleb obediently lets Fjord open his mouth. "Can you take me all the way?" He asks.

Caleb hums again. "I don't know. Like I said, it's been a while." He meets Fjord's eyes. His pupils are heavily dilated and the sight of the barest hint of blue ringing them makes Fjord want to push Caleb to the floor and kiss the life out of him. "But I am eager to try."

"Hold still." He opens his mouth again, wider now, and Fjord moans and presses in, slowly at first, just to watch the stretch of Caleb's throat around him. Then he pushes deeper and deeper until his pelvic bone is pressed against Caleb's nose. Fjord shudders and Caleb closes his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, holding still for Fjord like he'd asked.

He could cum like this: pressed so deep in Caleb's throat, with the wet heat of him, on another swallow, but Fjord doesn't want to cum like this. He wants to cum after giving Caleb pleasure--he wants to cum when Caleb's all sated and happy and pleased after cumming himself. He wants to cum after Caleb's cummed inside of him.

He slides out of Caleb's throat. Caleb opens his eyes, lips swollen and cheeks high with a flush, but he looks confused. "Fjord?" He tips his chin up and Fjord kneels down so they are face to face. He's a little embarrassed by the way his cock bobs in front of him when he crouches down, but Caleb's eyes flit to it and his mouth parts on a shaky exhale, and Fjord feels a little pleased too.

He tugs on Caleb's clothes, "Can I?" He asks, hesitantly. Caleb hesitates a moment. "Keep the bandages on." He says, after a second and Fjord nods and begins to help Caleb take off his worn coat. He slides Caleb's pants off and strips him of his underclothes and shirt, until he's in nothing but his bandages and the scarf looped around his throat.

Fjord pulls on the fabric between two of his fingers. "Would it be weird if I thought you keepin' this on would be hot?"

Caleb chuckles, deep and Fjord flushes with the sound of it. It is rare that they can get Caleb to laugh. Fjord has yet to see a laugh so uninhibited and happy, but this low chuckle will do. "It would be weird, _ja_ , but I would let you." Caleb's hands go to Fjord's shirt, "and you? Will you get rid of this?"

Fjord hesitates then. The scars from Lorenzo hadn't faded, even when Jester had used her magic on them the night after Lorenzo had been killed. Her own scars were still on her body, and Fjord bets that Yasha too, still had the remnants of them as well. It was ugly, Fjord knew, he'd looked at them in the reflection of still water and in the glass mirrors in the tavern bathroom. But he had scars on his face, and scars were scars, nothing he could do about them. He shucked his shirt, wincing a little when it pulled at his shoulder and the tight scar tissue across his shoulder blade and back. Thankfully, Caleb said nothing. His eyes widened a little bit at the expanse of them across Fjord's shoulders, but it was only for a moment before his eyes trailed over the rest of Fjord's chest and down.

Fjord willed confidence into his voice, "Like what you see?"

Caleb met Fjord's eyes, mouth turning up in the corner. " _J_ _a_ , very much."  

Fjord flushed and let his eyes trail pointedly over Caleb's skinny form. "Me too." He said and Caleb's eyelashes fluttered before he leaned forward.

Their mouths met for the first time, something slow and soft and sweet, and Fjord relished the feel of Caleb pressed against his chest, arms snaking around his waist to hook him upwards. Fjord could taste a bit of himself in Caleb's mouth, and it made him shiver at the thought of it. Caleb had sucked him down like a champ, and Fjord wanted to do the same, but he also wanted to do something else more. He pulled away, allowing Caleb to press kisses to his cheek and jaw and downwards, and lifted his hand to his mouth, pressing two fingers between his lips over Caleb's head. Once he was sure his fingers were slick enough, he shifted a little, awkwardly hoisting Caleb up as best he could--he wasn't Yasha or Jester, after all--and slipped his fingers behind himself and to his hole.

Caleb blinked at him in confusion when Fjord hissed out a breath. "What are you doing?" He asked, eyes trailing to where Fjord was working his fingers into himself.

"What..." he huffed, moaned a little at the friction, "does it look like?"

Caleb's eyes were very wide. "It looks at though you are working yourself open."

"Yeah." Fjord sighed, changing the angle and moaning again when his fingers brushed against a spot that made his thighs tremble.  

"Fjord..." Caleb says, haltingly, something hungry but conflicted across his face. "Are you sure?"

"Would I be--" he moans again, curling and scissoring his fingers over and over again. The burn is new, something he wasn't expecting. "doin' this if I didn't want this?"

Caleb still looks conflicted so Fjord sighs and takes his fingers out of himself. "I want this." He says, a little more sure, less breathy. "And it's not the alcohol talkin'. I do." He swallows, and growls, "So, put your fingers in me yourself, or I'll just get back to it."

As Fjord watches, Caleb's cheeks darken even further, and his mouth parts. He's a picture, his eyes wide and dark, lips parted just so, and it's arousing and Fjord has a moment to think _oh_ right as Caleb slides his arm around Fjord's back and presses a finger into him, crooking upwards.

It's something else, having someone else's fingers inside of him. Fjord has never done this with another person, not even Sabien, whom he'd shared a few hasty handjobs with, their mouths sliding together hard and rough. It's different, new, and Fjord likes it so much, especially the feeling of Caleb's fingers inside him. Caleb's fingers, which snap to bring Frumpkin into existence, that shoot fire from the tips, that wiggle and cast magic effortlessly, leaving Fjord breathless at the sight of them.

It isn't new, his admiration and awe of Caleb, and his magic, but it certainly hadn't felt quite like this.

Caleb pushes in and stretches him and Fjord moans around him, panting against Caleb's neck and cheek, and Caleb huffs and his other hand comes up to cub the side of Fjord's neck.

"Patience, _Bärchen_." He murmurs, sliding out two fingers and sticking in three. Fjord feels so _full_.

"It's really good, Caleb." Fjord murmurs again. Vandren's accent is becoming difficult to maintain, his voice wants to go high rather than low, and he has to constantly check himself. 

Caleb hums again and moves inside him, curling and stretching and pushing, and it burns a little but good, so good, until Caleb hits something inside of Fjord that sends a jolt of pleasure up his spine. He'd done that to himself, earlier, and he gasps, " _again_ ," in his own accent, causing Caleb to pause. Fjord clears his throat and says, "Caleb, again." in Vandren's voice, enunciating the drawl, hoping Caleb didn't catch the slip and Caleb does so, again, on each "again" that Fjord gasps out until he's shivering in Caleb's hands.

"You're ready." Caleb says; he sounds pleased as he pulls away. His fingers slide out of Fjord and Fjord cuts back on a whine. The fullness and the stretch were more than he was prepared for, and he feels bereft with it suddenly gone. "Turn around." Caleb orders, touching Fjord's flank and Fjord turns his back without complaint. It feels odd, staring at the door in a confined space with Caleb at his back, the both of them nearly naked, with Caleb's hands on his thighs.   

"Fjord?" Caleb whispers, and Fjord nods and presses his hands against the door, "go ahead." He says and Caleb rubs his side, once, before pushing in.

It burns, even more than his fingers and Fjord's own had, and Fjord winces a little at the sensation, but he doesn't tell Caleb to stop, even though Caleb moves so slowly and so haltingly, as though afraid to break him. When finally, Caleb is full seated, Fjord breathes out, feeling strange, but in a good way, a sensation unlike anything he has ever felt before, like when he'd first tried to use his newly given magic and the first stirring of eldritch energy had coalesced in his palm.

"You can move, Caleb." Fjord tells him and Caleb leans over Fjord and does. He moves slowly, but moans at the feeling and Fjord sighs and moans too, encouragingly.

It stays slow like that, good but Fjord needs this to erase his thoughts, not steady them, and Caleb must think the same because he whispers against Fjord's ear, "faster?"

"Yeah." Fjord agrees, and Caleb moves, quicker, the snap of his hips against Fjord, and Fjord jolts and moans harder, his voice slipping away from him again in his surprise. 

Caleb's mouth is hot and hard against the skin of Fjord's shoulder, pressing against each laceration. Lorenzo had made sure that they would scar, the slashes on Fjord's chest, the burns on Jester's inner arms, the lashes on Yasha's back. He had wanted to break them, but Jester's singing had kept Fjord from falling under, and Yasha's fury had fought against Lorenzo's determination. Fjord hadn't dared to hope that the others would come save them, Beau perhaps, Molly maybe, but not Caleb or Nott. So having Caleb press kisses to his wounds was a revelation that Fjord couldn't understand, but he welcomed it.

He welcomed the hot press of Caleb inside of him, eradicating as much of the memory, for just the moment, at least, so that Fjord could have his thoughts silenced. So that he didn't feel hopeless, guilty, tired, broken, useless, and all the other adjectives he'd called himself the week after they'd been saved.

His thoughts were finally clear; they were just him, and Caleb.

"I am close, _Bärchen_." Caleb mutters, against Fjord's skin and Fjord nods and says, "me too," just as he feels himself give way. Caleb tumbles after him, on a muffled cry against Fjord's scars and Fjord bites down on his own, his tusks just barely tickling his bottom lip.

They are panting in the aftermath, Caleb sliding free of him and Fjord wincing on the release. He feels wet, but good, sated and clear of worries. For now.   

Fjord turns around to look at him. Caleb is breathing heavily, but he is high in color and his eyes are a hazy blue. His mouth is soft and his frown lines smoothed away. Fjord is pleased that, at least on the outside, Caleb looks as though their tryst had done him a little good too. That had been the plan, after all.

Fjord slides his pants and shirt back on, getting himself put together, and Caleb does the same. The silence is comfortable, if surprising. Perhaps they are both thinking about how good this arrangement had been.  

Fjord stands then, presses his other hand to his mouth to cover up a yawn. "Gonna try and get some sleep."

"That is a good idea." Caleb says, sitting up and beginning to pull on his coat. Fjord watches him methodically wrap his bandages more tightly around his forearms and fingers. Fjord wonders what lies underneath the bandages, what lays across Caleb's skin. Maybe there are scars, like Fjord's roping his arms, or a brand or some sort of burn--Caleb had told him that he has a history with fire, after all. He hopes that Caleb will one day be comfortable enough to show him, show the Nein. For now though, Fjord is content and his thoughts are not rushing with guilt or despair. All he can think about is what he and Caleb had just done, and the way Caleb looks, still rumpled but different from usual, not dirty or slummy, but as though he'd just gotten back from a good time. Mussed. Gorgeous.

They leave the storage room together. There is still the sound of music and voices coming from the tavern and Caleb and Fjord turn towards the landing where the spare rooms are. They walk side-by-side until they reach the end of the hall where they'd claimed their rooms: Fjord's across from Caleb and Nott's. Fjord pauses at his door, hand on the doorknob, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Caleb. Caleb has paused too. He shifts on his feet and then turns to look at Fjord.

"I am glad you are still alive, Fjord." He mutters. Then he turns back to the door and pulls it open, slipping inside.

"You too." Fjord whispers, to the sound of the door closing.

*** 

In the dark of that night, Fjord wakes abruptly from a nightmare: the cold, painful slashes of a blade into his skin, his heartbeat in his throat, Jester's screams and cries, Yasha's stony face gripped with horror and rage over Molly's grave, and her furious eyes as they look at Fjord. When he wakes, he instinctively clutches the scar tissue running down his shoulder--it burns where he touches it, and he grips it hard, nails biting in, as he tries to keep his heart from exploding from his chest.

A soft sound in the dark makes Fjord flinch, eyes darting to the bed across from him where a lump of pink fur is curled. Caduceus Clay, sleeping soundly, snoring and snuffling in his more restful sleep. Fjord breathes out, and in, and tries to calm himself but his skin is buzzing with adrenaline and fear. He needs to make sure Jester is okay.

He gets up, as quietly as he can, and exits the room, pausing only slightly when he thinks he sees a furry ear flick upwards.

When he makes it to Beau and Jester's room, he taps quietly on the door. When he doesn't get a response, Fjord gently pushes the door open. He finds the two of them curled up together on the same bed, the other bed cold and lonesome, as they sleep clutched together. Jester is sniffling while Beau gently cards fingers through her hair. Fjord quietly closes the door, relieved that Jester has someone to look after her.

_Where Fjord has already failed her._

He starts to head back to his room, when Caleb and Nott's door opens, and a head pokes out. Nott's yellow eyes narrow as they take in Fjord, standing awkwardly in the hallway. "What are you doing skulking about?"

Fjord huffs. "Not skulkin' Nott, just havin' a walk about." He pauses, and then adds, honestly, "just a bad dream."  

Nott tilts her head curiously. "Was it another 'semen' dream?"

Fjord scowls. "No."

Nott's ears flick with amusement as she opens the door wider, revealing Caleb standing just behind her, clutching his sleepwear and looking like he had just woken up. "I think he doth protest too much." She jokes, grinning up at Caleb. Caleb's mouth purses as he fights a smile, but he does ask, "is everything alright, Fjord?"

"More or less." Fjord shrugs. "Sorry to have woken you." He turns to head back to his room, devoid of a familiar face and now filled with the presence of a stranger, but Caleb's voice stops him.

"Would you prefer to sleep in the room with the two of us?" He asks, eyeing Fjord shrewdly. "I am sure Mr. Clay will not mind."

Nott looks up at Caleb curiously, and Fjord does the same. Caleb shifts awkwardly on his feet. "It is only a suggestion." He mutters, once the silence has gone on too long.

"Thank you," Fjord says, earnestly. "But I wouldn't want to intrude."

"I know that rooming with someone you have only just met can be uncomfortable considering..." He doesn't say it, but Fjord knows he refers to Molly, and the usual rooming agreement they shared. Beau and Jester, Caleb and Nott, Fjord and Molly (when Yasha was not around).     

"Thank you," Fjord says, again, "But I'm alright, truly."

Nott's eyes are narrowed, almost to slits as they dance back and forth between Caleb and Fjord. Eventually, frustrated, she grabs Fjord's hand and drags him into the room, grumbling under her breath about stubbornness and stupidity. Fjord is too bewildered to shake free, and Caleb follows them, his mouth quirked to the side in an amused grin. She pushes Fjord down onto one of the beds, barks at him to get his feet under the covers, and pulls them tight around him like a cocoon. Fjord stares at her, confused and a little frightened as she stands up, hands on her hips and scowling.

"If you are uncomfortable you have to say so." She growls, before she turns and heads for the door.

"Where are you going?" Fjord calls after her, trying to maneuver within the cocoon he's been placed in.

"To Caduceus." She says, bluntly. "Someone has to tell him you won't be returning to the room tonight."

Nott leaves on light feet and Caleb sits down on the bed beside Fjord, raising his eyebrow at Fjord's predicament. "You are cozy, at least." He says.

"Too cozy." Fjord mutters and finally manages to get his arms free. "I felt like she swaddled me like a baby."

Caleb snorts. " _Ja_ , the biggest baby."

"Hey." Fjord says, warningly, but Caleb waves his hand apologetically.

They sit in something like silence, but Fjord is hyper aware of the sound of his own breathing, and that of Caleb's. There's a tension in the air, a niggling sensation that this person in the room with him, this person has been inside of him. It's a weird thought. 

"Caleb--" "Fjord--" they both say at the same time and then stop, looking at each other. Caleb looks bemused and Fjord sighs and inclines his head. "You first." 

"I am hoping that what we had done last night will not change our relationship... make things awkward." He says.

"Not feelin' awkward here. Don't know what gave you that idea." Fjord quips, shrugging off the last of the blankets. Caleb's mouth tilts up in a half-smile. Then his expression gets more solemn. 

"We are... gut? You and I?" He says, looking Fjord in the eye. 

"Yeah." Fjord nods, sinking down a little, resting his head against the pillow. "We're good." 

Nott returns a few moments later to the sight of Fjord snoring lightly in his sleep and Caleb in the other bed, propped up with a book in hand. Caleb pats the bed he is in, and Nott doesn't think twice before leaping in beside him and snuggling up against his side.  

**Author's Note:**

> I am not good at writing smut but hey, this was an attempt, and despite it all, I'm rather pleased with it (could still be better though lol)


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